A Poem about a Mysterious Woman
This is a poem about a mysterious woman. Who is she, and what secrets does she hold? It is a thriller expressed through poetry, a story of blood and gunshot, that travels five thousand miles. It is a poem about entangled emotions, dangerous love and hopeful dreams gone wrong....very wrong.....
There she was
At the supper club.......
She arrived with a friend,
Wished the night would soon end.
Prawns made her sick,
But she'd painted her lips
In a mean shade of red,
To turn any man's head
Like a mask; a disguise,
For the woman inside.
She remembered the days
She'd been in LA,
Such a long time ago,
Gotta go with the flow.
She'd been reaching for dreams,
Just the bad ones, it seems,
Nothing left but lost hope,
Changing vistas and smoke.
At the table they talked
Of the prawns, then the pork.
She played with her hair,
Waves that once just weren't there.
From blonde to stark black -
A cliché, perhaps,
Made her skin look so pale
It deterred from the trail.
Stevie Wonder, he played,
Made her feel afraid.
Her past caught in her throat,
Constricted, she choked.
Feeling hot, breathing fast
She got up and rushed past
All the others, who stared
As she ran for the air.
In her mind played the day -
Hollow screaming; the rage.
A plate hit the wall,
She was useless and small.
The stars had burned bright
But they died on that night -
Just a second to change,
Now a lifetime of pain.
She wrote her own blog,
A comforting smog.
On the web, no one sees
But she still wasn't free.
The world was so small,
Though she gave it her all,
Wrote of clothes and of dreams,
Tasty food, lives that gleamed
Like the one that she'd chased,
So naïve, out of place,
In Studio City,
Now left with just pity -
And the face of a man
And her own shaking hand
And the screams, and the blast
And then silence at last.....
Except for the song
That just played along,
Like the background to hell,
The worst kind of spell.
There was no going back,
She found a new track,
Wrote a suicide note,
Then jumped on a boat,
Threw her shoes in the sea -
A red herring; a tease.
Her friend helped her leave
As she tried to believe
That she'd make it alive,
That she'd be spared the inside
Of a cold prison cell
On her voyage to hell.
There she was,
Saying goodbye at the supper club....
She left with her friend,
Won't go back, that's the trend.
Each place, only once,
Make an entrance; a punch,
Then fade back to dust,
Not a choice but a must,
Though the actress inside
Always tries to rise high.
Once back at her flat,
On her laptop she tapped,
As she wrote a review
Of the supper club's food.
Her name wasn't real -
A non-tangible shield,
She'd lost her whole self
To a life lived in stealth.
And with night came the beast
That clung on like a leech,
Sweating and tense,
She lost all pretence
Of a normal life lived,
Of her dreams to be big,
Of her name up in lights,
Of her family; their strife.
They thought she had died,
Didn't know she'd survived.
The note said it all,
They had mourned her, her fall
Right down from grace -
An unsavoury place.
She just tried to hold on
To their faces; their songs.
She saw her hand on the gun
In the low, evening sun,
His face, wild fear,
No pleading, no tears.
It haunts her in dreams,
Life's not as it seems,
A final breath taken
Ends dreams in the making.
Their love was so wrong,
The most dangerous song,
Wrapped up in a cloak
Of betrayal and hope.
The bruise on her arm,
His words, cold and calm,
Then later, explosions
And sultry illusions.
And just one mistake
Is all it can take.
He shut her right out,
Her heart tried to shout.
Then, rejected and hurt,
She was drawn to the words
Of the stranger whose eyes
Made her feel alive.
But one moment of passion
Is like bad, passing fashion.
It was not he she loved,
He was never her drug.
She was wracked with her guilt
Then her secret, it spilt,
By the barbeque ribs,
As the rumour mill hissed.
Like a movie unwinding
He told her to find him,
To invite him alone,
To bring him into their home.
He forced her with words
Of formidable urge,
Picked the plate up to hurl,
As his anger unfurled.
With hands that were shaking,
She called him, just hating
The words that she said,
Of the empty house; bed.
Her lip was split open,
His hand-print a token,
Of the price that she paid
For wandering astray.
She opened the door,
Feeling sick to the core.
He smiled and walked through,
Kissed her cheek, not a clue
That the other man's rage
Was preparing the stage
For the ultimate crime,
A dark moment in time.
There he stood, out of view,
As his jealousy grew,
Raw emotion gone wrong,
A dangerous bomb.
He stepped out and grabbed her -
From then, to ever after,
She would not be the same,
She'd be out of the game.
He placed the gun in her hand,
His breath hot, skin like sand.
She must listen, or die,
Pull the trigger; comply.
No gloves hid the prints,
She knew this and winced -
And the guest in the room
Knew right then he was doomed.
Her body was shaking.
She screamed; she was breaking.
He counted to five -
Just one chance to survive.
With each second passing
To cold, callous laughing,
It was almost too late,
Then she sealed her fate.
With a gun at her head,
She shot him down dead,
The man she'd met twice
Had paid with his life,
Found himself in the way
Of destructive decay,
She was too scared to die,
Though she now wonders why.
The motionless man,
The blood-spattered ground.
What had she done?
She let go of the gun.
She was caught in a trap,
Took a life, no way back.
The proof was immense,
Her throat closed, she was spent.
She ran from the house
To the sound of his shouts,
Thought that no one would care
But her friend waited there -
The one friend who knew
Just what he'd put her through,
Still, the tears wouldn't come,
She was dead now, just numb.
Her friend took her hand,
In her mind was a plan -
Write a suicide note
Then jump on the boat.
She had watched through the window,
Saw that life was in limbo,
Now sail into the sun,
Nothing more can be done.
Get away from LA,
As the dusk ends the day.
As they moved down the coast,
She hid low in the boat.
Mexico, Nicaragua,
Right down to Panama -
What got them through?
Had an angel come too?
Four weeks, open seas,
So sick, yet relieved
Of the space and the freedom
And not quite believing
They had made it this far,
As they stared at the stars -
That vast, open space
Seemed a comforting place.
Casablanca, Tangiers,
The days felt like years.
Mediterranean sights -
But a fugitive's plight
Is not photos and sun
And no one had won,
Then an east Europe bar
By chance got them far.
They sold the boat, just so cheap,
To a man down a street,
Paid for passports to flee
Overland, left the seas.
A new name, a new life,
It's the ultimate prize
For those on the run,
From the prints on a gun.
The White Cliffs of Dover -
Her journey was over,
At least, for a while,
She'd been five thousand miles.
In the city, she blended,
Made her living, suspended
In the online world -
Her blogs were her pearls.
They allowed her to hide,
To maintain her disguise,
Though she always looked back -
Had she covered her tracks?
Yet for now she was free,
Had a flat, walked the streets
Of London's West End,
To the club, with her friend.
There she was
At the Jazz Club....
Comments
Polly C (author) from UK on April 25, 2018:
@Felisa - Thank you, and thank you for reading - yes, it is quite long but that's just how it turned out!
Felisa Daskeo from Manila, Philippines on April 25, 2018:
I love your poem. Very long but I enjoyed reading it.
Polly C (author) from UK on December 17, 2017:
@Robin - Thank you so much, I really enjoyed writing this poem and it's lovely to get such nice comments! :)
Robin Carretti from Hightstown on December 16, 2017:
Wow I am speechless this is brilliant it should be written up on a movie set I love this style and uniquely so cool with your writing
Larry Rankin from Oklahoma on April 18, 2015:
Nice flow.
Polly C (author) from UK on March 19, 2015:
Thank you, Lee - so happy that you liked it!
Lee Cloak on March 19, 2015:
Fantastic long poem, worth reading again and again, great writing, thanks!
Polly C (author) from UK on March 01, 2014:
Thank you so much, Harishprasad :)
Harish Mamgain from New Delhi , India on March 01, 2014:
What a story weaved in a beautiful long poem ! Excellent work.
Polly C (author) from UK on September 18, 2013:
Thank you, janesix:)
janesix on September 18, 2013:
WoW....epic
Polly C (author) from UK on July 24, 2013:
Thank you, annart, I'm so pleased you liked it, I enjoyed writing this one a lot :)
Ann Carr from SW England on July 24, 2013:
Great poem, rivetting. I like the rhythm and the chill! Up etc.
Polly C (author) from UK on June 12, 2013:
@foemeno - hi there, thanks for stopping by and reading :)
David Charles from New York on June 09, 2013:
it started extremely unique and intriguing but about midway kinda lost the theme, great read though, great
Polly C (author) from UK on April 25, 2013:
Hi To Start Again - thank you for your great comments, I'm really happy you liked this hub because it is one of my favourites and the only one I have attempted in this style. My ultimate ambition in life is to write a book - it's a great compliment that you think this poem could become one. Thank you for stopping by to read it :)
Selina Kyle on April 25, 2013:
Kept me hooked through to the end. I really liked everything about it. The flow was great and you pulled off the feeling of fear and looking over your shoulder. She's 'gotten away' but she can never be free. Have you ever thought of expanding it into a book?
Polly C (author) from UK on March 02, 2013:
Hi torrilynn - thank you so much, I'm really happy you liked the poem :)
torrilynn on March 01, 2013:
Hi Polly,
really nice hub that you have here
its shows an elegance and yet a mystique about it
i absolutely love poems and i definitely love yours as well
continue to be a great author. thanks.
voted up